I'm his sandwich

Warm white wine from a plastic cup

I lie on the bed for hours, craving sugar and grease. Finally, I manage to stir myself. I take some painkillers and glug some water before ordering a pizza. While I'm waiting for it, I pop out to the shops and buy all of my favourite junk food: chilli tortilla chips, sour gummy worms, a big slab of fruit and nut chocolate, and a six pack of Diet Cokes. By the time I get home, my pizza has arrived. My parents are out somewhere. I'm grateful there's no one to see me shove a slice of pizza, a handful of gummy worms, and a wedge of chocolate in my mouth at once and nearly dislocate my jaw trying to chew the rich sludge of it. I drain endless Diet Coke and masturbate right there on the couch to pictures of Ed on my laptop. I'm a disgusting mess but I don't care anymore. My body is ready to merge as one with Ed's, to lie entangled in his limbs and breathe the sweet musk of his scent. And that's when I discover something that might very well change my life.

My laptop screen glows in my lap, and there's a timetable of events on the website of an upcoming Dublin book festival. Chomping on a gummy worm, my eyes widen as I read:

A profound and stirring thinker, Ed Miliband, in conversation with Fionnuala O'Shea, discusses his new book, a memoir of growing up passionately involved in politics and the intellectual world...

'Oh my god,' I whisper. 'He's coming to find me.' I snap the laptop closed and push my snacks aside, all cravings evaporating. Ed is coming to find me. Tears prick my eyes. Maybe it's time to immerse myself in a little indulgent fantasising...

Ed steps off the stage to the dimness behind the curtain, the lights glittering behind him. His eyes scan the darkness until he finds me and grins.

'I've been waiting for this,' he says, his voice thick with longing as he draws me into his arms. We kiss like ravenous wolves descending on a lamb as the crowds applaud behind us. When we part, we're both breathing heavily. Ed loops his fingers through mine.

'Let's get out of here,' he whispers. I nod. We weave past various backstage staff and step out into the cold night air, the hours before us brimming with potential...

I'm stirred from my fantasy by the door opening. My mother appears by the couch, frowning at me. She's wearing lipstick so they must have been somewhere special.

'Jesus, Ellie, have you been sprawled there all day?' she tuts, straightening the throw behind me. 'When did you last shower?'

I stagger to my feet, tears pricking my eyes. 'Just leave me alone,' I say, pushing past both her and my bemused dad and fleeing upstairs to the sanctuary of my room. Under the covers, I book a ticket to Ed's talk and then drift into a sleep. Ed doesn't find me in my dreams tonight but I know that soon he'll fill my waking hours.

The following days pass in a dense haze of junk food, masturbation, and jagged stabs of loneliness. I spend hours barricaded into my room, poring over photos and videos of Ed, until it feels like his very essence has seared itself into my brain. Every so often, my mother knocks on the door or my father brings me a coffee, but largely they leave me in peace. One Saturday morning, I'm in the conservatory, eyes closed, thinking of licking every inch of Ed's body. I'm licking my lips when someone clears their throat. I open one eyelid to see my father staring at me. I stiffen as I take in his appearance: dark smudges under his eyes, a spray of stubble across his cheeks, unkempt hair.

'Jesus, Ellie,' he sighs, and his words are dripping with sadness. 'Look at the state of you.'

I look down and feel my cheeks flush. My pyjamas are covered in various food and toothpaste stains. My hair hasn't been brushed in days. I smell like a sewer rat.

'I haven't been myself,' I mumble, eyes trained on the dregs of my coffee. Dad sits down across from me and rubs my leg.

'You have to stop this Ed thing,' he says. 'It's not healthy. You're turning into a zombie. You do know they're just fantasies, Ellie, don't you, darling? I'm fairly sure he's married.'